


Revolution

by rsadelle



Category: Britney Spears (Musician), NSYNC, Pop Music RPF
Genre: Crossdressing, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-09-16
Updated: 2001-09-16
Packaged: 2017-10-28 10:35:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/306974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rsadelle/pseuds/rsadelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Teen People photo shoot, Justin and Britney switch clothes and don't have sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Revolution

**Author's Note:**

> You wouldn't believe how easy this was to write.

"Come on, Justin. Just take 'em off."

"Brit, I don't see why--"

"Because," she insisted. "I want to try them on."

"They're not going to fit. The shirt'll be too tight, and the pants are too long."

"I don't care. Just hand 'em over."

"But--"

"For Christ's sake, Justin, just give me your fucking clothes."

"Britney!" Despite his shocked outrage, Justin ducked behind the changing screen.

Britney rolled her eyes. "It's not like you've never heard me swear before."

"Here." Justin tossed his pants, then his shirt over the screen.

Britney caught them neatly and set them on a chair while she pulled off her own clothes. She stepped into his red leather pants and zipped them up, carefully arranging the nameplate belt buckle in the center. They were too long, but she just stepped into a pair of high heels so they wouldn't drag on the ground. The shirt was a little tight, but that only served to accentuate the curves of her breasts. She stood in front of the mirror, turning to see herself from every possible angle.

"Can I come out now?" Justin asked, interrupting her.

"Just a sec. Toss me your bandana."

"What?"

"Your bandana. Just toss it to me."

Justin scowled behind the screen, but he swiftly untied his bandana and tossed it over to Britney.

Britney pushed her hair back and carefully tied the bandana over it. She turned her head and eyed herself in the mirror. "Okay. You can come out now."

Justin stepped out from behind the screen, a robe wrapped around his body.

Britney twirled around. "Well? What do you think?"

Justin eyed her critically. "The shirt's too tight, the pants are too long, and your shoes don't match the rest of the outfit." He smiled slyly at her. "The pants do fit your ass perfectly."

She laughed delightedly. "Now that's the kind of thing I want to hear." She looped her arms around his neck. "Think I could go out in this and pass for normal?"

He put his arms around her waist. "Sure." He leaned down and kissed her. "But what would I wear?"

She gave him a smug little smile. "No one's wearing my clothes."

"Britney!" Justin stepped back from her, shocked. "I can't wear your clothes!"

"Why not? I'm wearing yours."

"That's different."

"How?"

"Brit, you're a girl."

"I had noticed that."

"I can't wear a girl's clothes."

"Justin, these are practically girl's clothes," Britney said, gesturing at his outfit on her body.

"But they're not."

"It's just a pair of pants and a shirt."

"They're not going to fit."

Britney picked up the stack of her clothes and handed them to him. "Just try them on."

Justin muttered about the wrongness of her decision, but he again stepped behind the screen and did as she'd asked. He stepped out and complained, "The pants are too short."

Britney stalked around him. When she got back to the front, she let out a low whistle. "*Damn*, baby. You are hot." She stepped closer. "Where you been all my life?"

Justin blushed. "Britney," he protested.

"You are hot." She pushed him back into a chair. "I like you in my clothes," she told him as she straddled his lap. She carefully settled herself onto his legs. "I should make you wear them more often." He didn't have a chance to reply before she was kissing him and grinding down into his lap.

After a small eternity of deep kisses and leather sliding against leather, Justin tore his mouth away. "Britney. Brit, stop," he panted as she tried to kiss him again.

"Why?" she gasped, still rocking her hips against him.

"We have to stop before it goes any farther."

Britney stopped moving and let out a frustrated growl. "Don't you ever get tired of this? Don't you want to have sex?"

"Of course I want to, but it's not right. Not when we're not married."

"I don't care if we're not married!"

Justin looked shocked. "Britney, you don't mean that."

"Yes, I do," she said firmly. "Look, you're hard," she rocked against him to emphasize the point, "and I'm wet and I'm tired of waiting." She leaned down and kissed him. "I could suck you off. Would you like that? Me sucking you off in your clothes?"

Justin pushed her off his lap. "Britney, we're not going to have sex."

"What are you going to do about that, then?" she asked, gesturing at his cock.

He flushed. "I'll just take care of it later."

"You'll jerk off, you mean."

"Britney," he hissed, "don't be crude."

"Will you at least let me watch?" she begged.

He flushed crimson. "Britney!" he said, his voice choked with shock.

"Please?" She slid her hand up the inside of his leg. "You won't let me get you off, you won't get me off, won't you at least let me watch you get yourself off?"

"Britney!"

She moved her hand higher and gripped his cock lightly. "I can jerk you off instead."

Justin snatched her hand away and gasped for breath. "You're not going to-- To-- To do that."

"Then let me watch." She leaned over and breathed into his ear, "Please."

"Britney," he groaned.

"If you do," she promised, her lips brushing against his ear, "I'll let you watch me."

"Oh, God."

"Is that a yes?"

Justin nodded frantically. "Yes, yes. God, Brit." He pushed her away. "Go sit over there."

Britney sat on the sofa and let her legs fall wide in an imitation of a typical guy pose. She tipped her head back against the back of the couch and watched Justin through heavy-lidded eyes.

Justin's flush deepened as he carefully unzipped Britney's black leather pants and pushed them as far down his hips as he could without standing up. He pushed his boxers down just as far with one hand while he pulled his cock above the waistband with the other.

Britney let out a strangled gasp as he started to tentatively stroke himself. "*God*, Justin. I wish you'd let me--"

"We can't," he said as firmly as he could. He looked down and concentrated on the slide of his hand over his cock.

"Tell me what you're thinking about," Britney demanded.

"You," he gasped. "The way your breasts feel when I hug you." He groaned. "The way they look in those tight, low-cut things you wear."

"I thought you didn't like the way I dress."

"Not-- Not when you're on display for any man who wants to look at you." Justin moved his hand faster. "But when I'm this hard, I don't give a flying fuck." He groaned, "Oh, God, Brit," and came with a strangled cry.

Britney was on her feet almost instantly, and kneeling at his side only seconds later. She grabbed his wrist. "Justin, let me taste you." She closed her lips around his fingers before he could protest.

After a few seconds of her frantic licking, Justin yanked his hand away from her. "Jesus Christ, Britney." He reached out for a Kleenex and wiped his hands. "That wasn't part of the deal."

"I just wanted to know what you taste like."

"Well now you know." Justin busied himself with pulling his clothes back up. "Get back over there," he nearly begged her.

Britney went back to the couch. She turned to face Justin and started by unbuckling the belt with his name on it. She unzipped his pants and squirmed out of them. She stepped out of her high heels before slipping her panties down her legs. She settled back against the couch, legs spread wide enough for Justin to see what she was going to do.

"I don't know if I even need to touch myself," she told him. "Watching you. God, Justin, it was so hot." Without any other preamble, she pushed two fingers into herself. She exhaled an "oh" of pleasure. "God, I love doing this." She ignored Justin's start of surprise. "I pretend it's you, your cock and not my fingers."

"Britney!"

"I do," she moaned. "Every time. God, Justin. I want you to fuck me. I don't even care anymore about what's right." She brought down her other hand and pressed a finger against her clit. "Fuck," she gasped. She jerked her hips up into her fingers. "Justin," she groaned.

His voice came at her from the other side of the room. "Brit."

"Oh, *Jesus*," she breathed as she came. She slumped back on the sofa for a few seconds to catch her breath, then glanced up at Justin's wide eyes watching her from across the room. She pulled her fingers out of herself with a soft, wet sound and held out her hand. "Want to taste?"

His voice was a sharp rebuke. "No."

She shrugged, unconcerned. "Suit yourself." She sucked on her own fingers for a long moment before letting them go with a slight pop. She stood and took the step to where the clothes she'd shed lay on the floor. She pulled her panties up over her hips, then Justin's pants. She buckled his name back across her middle.

"Brit," he said in a weak, shaky voice. He cleared his throat to strengthen and steady it. "We can't do this again."

Britney stalked toward him and he wiped suddenly damp hands against the leather covering his legs in an ineffectual attempt to dry them.

"We can't do this again," he said a second time.

Britney straddled his legs and sat down onto his lap. "Why not? Why can't we do this, Justin?" She shifted against his hips. "Tell me, Justin. Is it because it turns you on so much? Is it because if we do it again you won't stop until you fuck me?"

"Yes," he whispered.

Britney smiled. "Good."


End file.
